TŌKYŌ, March, 1898.
DEAR McDONALD,--Sunshine, warmth, and beauty in the world to-day; and
sunshine and warmth of another sort in my heart--beautiful ghostly
summer made by words and thoughts in Yokohama. "When the earth is still
by reason of the South wind"--that is my mental world.
I am sending the photo of our friend, which reminds me that I was
reproached very justly on reaching home last night. "But you did not
bring your American friend's picture?... Forgot to put it into the
valise?... Oh! but you _are_ queer--always, always dreaming! And don't
you feel just a little bit ashamed?" I do feel ashamed, but more than a
little bit.
Also I send you a little volume containing "The House and the
Brain"--published in other editions under the title "The Haunted and
the Haunters." (Usually it is bound up with that tremendous story about
the Elixir of Life,--the "Strange Story" of Bulwer Lytton.) Professor
Saintsbury calls this the best ghost-story ever written. But you ought
to read it at night only--after the hotel becomes silent.
By way of precaution I must make a confession. I shall not be able to
eat again until about Tuesday noon, I think. The tiffins, dinners,
"irresistibles," and above all that Blue Soul, were too much for me.
I am getting old, sure enough,--and when I go down again to Yokohama
I must live in the most ascetic manner. I feel constitutionally
demoralized by all that luxurious living. Still, I must say that I
suspect the sudden change of the weather is partly responsible for the
feeling.
Now, really--don't you feel tired of all this talk? Of course I
know--but the conditions are so much like those of old college
friendships that they seem more of dreams than of reality.
Ever affectionately,
LAFCADIO.